


In The Interim

by DigistarDBZ



Category: Digimon Savers | Digimon Data Squad
Genre: Anal Fingering, Guilt, Guilty Pleasures, Hand Jobs, M/M, Nipple Licking, Older Man/Younger Man, Short, Stairs, Taboo, Thinking of Somebody Else, Young Dom/Older Sub
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-19
Updated: 2015-10-19
Packaged: 2018-04-25 10:22:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4956631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DigistarDBZ/pseuds/DigistarDBZ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Satsuma wants his object of desire back.  Masaru wants to do right by his father's legacy, no matter what.  The darkness of night hides just how wrong their approach to fixing it really is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In The Interim

**Author's Note:**

> I'm aware Masaru is 14, and while the age of consent is fairly low in the teens in Japan (13, I think?) there's still obscenity laws that strongly discourage it. Please don't assume that I support pedophilia or anything of that nature; if I had a Masaru that was, say, the 19-year-old one from the epilogue I'd go for it. (It's still skeevy but he's of legal age)
> 
> With this in mind, please be aware of what you're reading.

* * *

The deep night never saw much waking life, even in a round-the-clock monitoring facility like DATS'.  The odd graveyard shift workers and scientists would be doing their work, and perhaps a daytime agent had found themselves working later than usual. But they were far and in between, and if there was anything going on in the building's innards it may as well never had happened at all.

That was a good thing, as far as Satsuma reasoned.  Or at least, he would have if he could concentrate.  

Having someone's slicked-up fingers probing his insides, trying to grind finger-joints against his prostate made it almost impossible to concentrate on anything else, especially not existential surroundings.  He could barely even speak outside of loud breathing, struggling to even say the name of the young man doing this to him.  

"M...ma...ma..."

Masaru perked his head up and made a brief noise of question, as he'd been so focused on fingering and stroking erections, he'd forgotten about the rest of him.  He shouldn't have been surprised Satsuma couldn't say much more than those first few syllables, but at least it was his own name.  Satsuma had gone to great lengths to try and not say the name of the person he was probably  _really_  thinking about.

That wasn't to say the view wasn't good: the much older man was sprawled up the stairs, slick with sweat, his long coat flayed open and just barely hanging off his shoulders, hair tousled, mouth gaping, and chest very visibly heaving, considering his shirt had been pushed up as far as it could under his armpits.  Masaru had to watch as Satsuma once again pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, tempted to remove them but then feeling like that was the one barrier he  _shouldn't_  violate.

"You gonna come now or what?"  Masaru asked him (he had a lot more work to do on his dirty talk, Satsuma thought in the back of his mind), initially not getting an immediate response outside of more loud breathing.

"Do  _something_ ," Satsuma gasped.  "Just...just do it.   _Please._ "

Masaru assumed "it" was the whole reason he had the small condom packet in his uniform jacket for.  Getting his hands free, he groped for the stray, tiny bottle of lubricant he'd pulled out of it earlier, setting it upright before taking the packet out and opening it (with his teeth, after much difficulty getting the stupid plastic thing to open).  He hoped he could still remember how to put the stupid thing on, even swatting away Satsuma's trembling hand when he noticed he was having trouble.

"A real man can put on his own condom!" He insisted, a statement that made Satsuma roll his eyes.  Such silliness made him briefly forget how utterly wrong the rest of this was.

It took a short while for it to look mostly acceptable, and there was a brief but protested tug on the condom to make it look just right; but it didn't take long for Masaru to slick everything back up and gently (he had to remember _gently_ , as Satsuma had specifically stated) insert himself.  Satsuma made a throaty keening sound with pursed lips as this happened, grasping the railing to keep himself from losing his precarious balance.  Masaru also made noise, but it was much more gargled as his cock was clenched with a tightness he hadn't yet been able to replicate.  

" _Fuck,_ " he gasped, his upper body flopping forward to meet the edge of one of the stairs.  "Fuck...fuck..."

It took the motion of hips trying to grind into him to remind Masaru of where he was, and attempted to piston himself.  It started off clumsy and inexperienced, but Satsuma was content to help Masaru gain a steady rhythm.  Masaru's breathing became more intense as he continued pushing in and pulling back, nestling his forehead into the crook of Satsuma's neck.  Words never came, as even his juvenile cussing had dissolved into panting.

There was something...unsettling seeing the top back of Masaru's head, in particular.  When Masaru would lift his head to look at him, then look down in a concentrated pleasure...especially how his hair stuck to his sweaty face.  It was the whole reason the young man was fucking him in the first place, how hauntingly like his father Masaru looked.  It made Satsuma shudder, struggling with the last shred of cognizance he had not to moan his name.

His lingering resolve was about to be tested when Masaru went back to his reddened nipples, lapping the sheen of sweat and salt that collected around the area. Masaru paid intense attention to them before, when Sastuma's reaction to having them pinched and sucked on was more intense than he'd expected a man's reaction to be. He’d gotten too hard, too fast earlier, and now this was threatening to break him already. He made an extremely unbecoming noise when Masaru gently bit down on one of the abused nubs, and Masaru's stomach danced when he noticed Satsuma's leg shot out and began to tap his heel against the ground. ' _Holy shit, that's hot!_ '

It was a losing battle to not say anything to the familiar head of hair pounding him, afraid of what words would come out. Masaru insisted again and again he was doing this for his father's sake, and he shouldn't think so much about it, but...

There was something Masaru did with his teeth that he could actually feel it inside the head of his penis.  Please don't say it, that's not who is fucking you, please...

please...

" _Professor_...!!!"

Too late.

Spunk dribbled up in spurts onto Masaru's uniform, but right now he was too focused on his own impending orgasm to really care. His own eventual last cry of passion was far less erotic, and more of a distinctly un-masculine whine. It was something Masaru had tried to work on in his free time, but masturbation was always back behind keeping himself in top fighting form.

Collapsing on top of his commanding officer, Masaru laid for what felt like ages, trying to re-collect himself. Satsuma's head was swimming, but his heart was in a limbo between soaring satisfaction and crushing guilt. He did it again. It wasn't Suguru's actual name this time, but he was sure Masaru knew what 'Professor' was alluding to. ' _If he hadn't gone after my nipples again, this wouldn't have happened.' ('Yes, keep blaming the poor boy for not being the man you really wanted, you sick fuck. Keep lying to yourself that being fucked isn't as disgusting as doing the fucking yourself.')_

Somewhere, in the utter back of his mind, Masaru wished  _he_  was the one Satsuma was thinking of. He had to laugh; something like this was just another thing he was chasing his father's shadow for. But if he were to ever make it to the same level Suguru had made it to, it would mean trying to do right wherever his father did.

Even if it meant trying to patch the hole in a poor, broken man's heart.

* * *

 


End file.
